A Long Life to Live
by Ash-Wood95
Summary: Only Seven when the Cordyceps hit, Fuller has grown up learning to survive, but he has realised that whilst survival is the goal it has costs. Not everyone survives in this world, and he knows it all too well. But still he fights, in the hopes that one day he can have a normal life. Is it possible? No one knows, but he will keep going until he finds out.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N **

**This story will follow the character names Fuller, he is a character I created for a The Last of Us RP, and I enjoyed RPing as him so much that I wanted to write a story involving him. Not only that but I also liked the back story I had created that I didn't want it to simply be stated in conversation through the RP, but I wanted to experience it for myself and wanted others to be able to do the same.**

**If you at all read my other ongoing story, which I an collaborating on, named Kirk's Story and think I am stopping that one then do not worry. I am writing these stories together, although they do not link together in any way. So, if you wish to read one you are not required to read the other.**

**I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoy writing it. And if you wish to leave a review, whether to praise or critique, then feel free to do so.**

**Disclaimer - I do not own The Last of Us or any trademarks or properties as they belong to Naughty Dog, other than my OCs of course.**

**Prologue**

On the exact day that the cordyceps hit Fuller had also turned Seven years old. On the morning he woke up and burst from his bed with excitement, put his dressing gown on over his pyjamas and hurried on down the stairs. His feet made a loud thud as he skipped the last few steps to reach the bottom quicker. Upon passing through into the living room he saw the couch had been moved back from it's usual position, leaving a wide open space. The curtains were wide open and a large beam of bright light filled the room, giving a golden aura of sorts. Filling this large space in the centre of the room was his Mother, barely 30 years old with long wavy brown hair and chestnut brown eyes to match. Her skin utterly perfect, she was beautiful in every way. Next to her standing tall was his Father. He was six and a half feet tall, with black hair that was short and spiked. He had a stubble lining his cheeks, and dark blue eyes that glared happily down at Fuller.

Fuller was identical to his Father in every way, even in such a young age, albeit without the fashionable hair and no facial hair either of course. He looked between his parents and saw his twin sister. Her face looked almost identical to his, except a lot more feminine. She had her Mother's eyes however, as well as a shortened version of her hair. Even though they were technically twins its almost like they took after different parents, which for them was normal and they were happy with that. His sister was in the middle of unwrapping her presents. Judging by the wrapping paper thrown about everywhere she had been down here for a few minutes at least and was going at her presents quick and hard.

"Happy Birthday Son" his father said cheerily as he knelt and spread his arms for him to have a hug. Fuller ran into his Father's arms and enjoyed the embrace. His Father let go and said "Time to open your presents now". So Fuller rushed to his own stack of presents and much like his sister, he attacked the wrapping paper eagerly to unveil his magnificent gifts of this year.

Later in the afternoon all four of them were sat at the table in the dining room. Fuller and his sister were sat on one side whilst their parents sat on the other. Behind him and his sister was a smaller, round table with loads of plates, dishes and bowls over it. As a treat the parents had made a special buffet of all their favourite snacks. All manners of chocolate and crisps, cakes and fizzy pops. Normally their parents ensure they have a balanced diet, they were all very healthy and none overweight in the slightest. But as it was their Birthday they were spoiled and allowed to pig out and enjoy everything.

Fuller carried around with him a model race car which his Father bought him. It was a Red Ford Mustang with labels and brands all over it. The reason why he loved it so much is because it very closely resembled the car his Father used to drive when he raced professionally.

His sister, Marie, carried a doll. The doll had long red hair, wore a blue and red striped dress and had brightly coloured little shoes on. It was a family heirloom for the females of the family. Just as Marie was given it by her Mother, she was given it by her own mother. It had been this way for the last few generations of her family.

As they sat at the long square table they were munching away on their snacks, with their favourite presents barely an inch away from them. Their Mother and Father looked at each other and at their children in happiness. They too ate their snacks but slower than the kids did.

Soon after a phone rung with the song "Carry On Wayward Son" blasting out. The Father picked up his phone and answered

"David, now is not a good time! It's my kids' birthday remember?" He said into the phone, wanting to get back to the day as soon as possible

"I know that Joe, and believe me I didn't want to interrupt but I thought I should tell you, put the news on. I just got home from work and saw what was happening, you won't believe it" the voice stated back at him.

The Father, otherwise known as Joseph but often called Joe, didn't know how to respond but he got up from the table and walked out of the room. Everyone else watched him as he did, wondering what was going on.

Joe entered the living room and lifted the remote from their couch to switch the TV on. As the screen lit up the news came on "The news isn't for another hour" Joe said down the phone

"I know, but just listen" the voice said back to him. Joe focused on what the newscaster was saying

"... was believed to have originated from within the centre of the city, but has quickly spread outwards. Scientists say they have no answers for this as it has happened too quickly. We..."

Joseph was shocked at hat he was seeing, people were running away from other who were baring their teeth like mad people. There were even pictures of people biting chunks out of each other. They reminded him of scenes from Snyder's version of "Dawn of the Dead"

"What is it?" Joe asked

"They keep calling an "infection". It just came out of nowhere it seems. People started going crazy. I was at work when it started, I got sent home early though so I wasn't too caught up in it" David's voice responded to him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah! A couple attacked me, but I escaped with no real harm done. They seemed crazy though, almost foaming at the mouth like." His voice became weird in fright as he spoke

"What do we do?"

"For now they are just saying to stay home if you're outside the city. It doesn't seem to have reached that far outside the city for the time being so we should be fine. But it's possible it could get here I say."

"So what are you going to do?"

"For now; lock every door, cover all windows and keep quiet. I'm gonna get my gun out the cabinet too, just in case" he stated and then finished with "I suggest you do the same and keep that family of yours safe. I gotta go, good luck".

Joe put the phone down slowly and silently and then practically dragged his feet as he entered the Dining Room again. His Wife looked up at him "What is it hun?" She asked with deep wonder and all Joe could do was stare at his family as he was afraid of what might happen.

Fuller meanwhile looked at his Father, and even though he was only seven he seemed to understand that something was different and that things would never be the same again.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N I wrote this Chapter to just jump right in with some action. My other story is currently about exploration with emotions and thoughts, whilst still having some action. With this one I want to provide a similar balance, but do so by having some extra action, thus why this Chapter exists the way it does.**

**I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoy writing it. And if you wish to leave a review, whether to praise or critique, then feel free to do so.**

**Disclaimer - I do not own The Last of Us or any trademarks or properties as they belong to Naughty Dog, other than my OCs of course.**

**Chapter One**

_Four Months after the Cordceps hit_

Fuller and his sister sat in the back seat of his Dad's car as they drove through the city streets. His Mother sat in the passenger seat and both his parents looked out the windows as the car crawled through the small gaps left between the many cars that cluttered the roads. They kept telling him and his sister to not look out so they kept their heads down, but Fuller still knew what was outside regardless. Beyond the glass, metal and plastic that trapped him in the car were dozens of dead bodies littering the street, all decomposing slowly. Joe could see that some had entire limbs where the flesh had been torn off: by teeth.

The car suddenly came to a halt: the road was blocked off in front of them by two large pick-up trucks. Anyone would have thought they were just left there like all the others, but Joe realised hey were purposefully placed there. This was a trap. Joe squinted as he looked around, desperately trying to see if anyone was around them at all, but he could not see anyone. Not a soul. As if the people in that very car were the last of humanity.

He contemplated his options: Ram the trucks and try to get through or turn around. Ramming the trucks could damage his car, possibly meaning they couldn't continue unless they go on foot. But turning around meant they had wasted their fuel.

"What do you think we should do hun?" he asked his Wife and then turned to her as she absently looked in front of them. It looked like in that moment she didn't care what would happen. "Claire?" He called her name expecting a response but he got none.

He sat there thinking about it, but in the end his decision was made for him as a gun shot ran out and the glass to the passenger door shattered.

Luckily no one in the car was injured as Fuller and Marie both had their heads down already and their parents ducked just in time.

Suddenly, men came out of nowhere and surrounded the car. One dragged Claire out the window and she screamed and kicked out, struggling the whole while.

Joe pushed himself out of his door as rage and fear surged in him, "Claire!" he yelled out to her. He lifted his body quickly but he was met with a large man in front of him. The shock hit Joe easily, but not due to the sight of this grotesque man in front of him, but because of the hideous smell that emanated off of him. The man grabbed Joe ferociously and forced him against the car, ramming his back against the closed door.

Fuller was forced to watch as his Father took punch after punch in the stomach. He could hear his Mother's screams outside the car, but could not see what was going on. Marie pushed her head down and tears flooded from her eyes. Fuller, upon realising that she was crying, wrapped his arms around her and covered her from what was going on, trying his best to console and protect her. But it grew harder and harder as she cried more and more, and the horrible sounds from outside grew louder and louder.

Joe struggled with the man who was now trying to throttle his throat, but only because he was trying to reach his gun, currently digging into his back as it was tucked in the back of his jeans. The man now used both hands, so Joe became desperate. He twisted his arm behind him and finally got a grasp on the gun, so he pulled it and pulled the trigger whilst the gun was aimed squarely at the man's chest.

The large man fell back and did so with a thud that was rather quiet given his size.

Joe put a hand to his throat and gently caressed it as if it would make it better but he was brought back to the events happening as Marie cried out "Mommy?"

Joe looked over the top of the car to see the man that had dragged her out of the car was removing her trousers.

Again, rage surged through him and he ran around the car. A couple other men got in his way, but not for long as he shot them the instant he saw them. He didn't care if he used ammunition at the time, he just wanted to get to his Wife.

He ran and ran, they were surprisingly far away, but when he got to them he launched his leg out to strike the man on top of her. When the man was on his back Joe aimed his gun down at him

"Please, don't kill me? I'm s...s..sorry" He tried to plead but Joe was too angry.

His finger began to pull the trigger but he was stopped when Claire spoke

"Joseph, don't. Let's just go."

He waited for a moment and then let go of the trigger, but for his own sakes he kicked the man a few more times, made sure he at least had a broken rib.

Joe looked at Claire and helped her to her feet before he pulled her into an embrace. Claire looked back at the car and saw that Fuller was looking out at them, he had seen more or less everything. But that wasn't the worst of it: more men were quickly approaching.

"Joe!"Claire said into his ear and then pointed to the car, causing him to turn and see for himself. They both broke into a full sprint, both thrusting themselves as fast and as far as they could. They got closer and closer to the car, but so did the other men.

Joe and Claire finally reached the car, and Claire rushed herself inside whilst Joe ran around to enter the driver's side. As he was half in shots started going off as the approaching men tried to shoot them. Joe paid it no attention though as he slammed the door shut once he was in. He glanced around and he was faced with the same decision as before: Ram the vehicles or turn around?

He looked in the rear view mirror and saw two men running up behind, one had two sword like weapons in his hands. Joe knew they would need other weapons for when they ran out of ammo, so he made his decision. He put the car in reverse and backed up and quick as possible, the man had no time to dodge before the car ran into him and knocked him down. Joe drove the car forward a bit and exited the driver's seat. He ran to the man on the ground, hit him and took his weapons.

As fast as he could, he ran back to the car as more shots rang out "Just go Joseph, Now!" Claire screamed down his ear and the car hurtled forward as fast as it could before it collided into the two pick-up was surprised they managed to get through but he didn't stop, however he did look in the rear view mirror to see these "hunters" standing there watching as the car drove further into the distance.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N The image at the end of this Chapter may prove hard for some of you to think of (You'll see what I mean), but that is kind of what I was going for. The game to me felt sad by the time reached the end, as I am sure it did for many of you who played it, but that only added to it's greatness in some weirdly entertaining way. Thus, I wanted my story to be filled of such sadness, such dread but still be as gripping and somewhat entertaining as the game. But I won't spoil for you what happens, or how things happen for my characters. The only way for you to find out is to read onwards.**

**I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoy writing it. And if you wish to leave a review, whether to praise or critique, then feel free to do so.**

**Disclaimer - I do not own The Last of Us or any trademarks or properties as they belong to Naughty Dog, other than my OCs of course.**

**Chapter 2**

_Three weeks after the Cordyceps hit_

Joe was in the living room on the couch staring at the Television, upon which only static remained. His eyes were zeroed in on the square device as if there was hope of some station coming back on soon, despite the fact that deep down he knew all hope of that had already ceased to exist.

Marie was over in the corner playing with her doll, she was almost oblivious the events that had unfolded. Joe had seen to that. She was perfectly content with staying at home and playing all day.

Fuller on the other hand had a harder time adjusting to all this time locked inside. He could tell that something was going on, but because of his age he wasn't able to figure out what. He still played and got to enjoy himself, but every now and then he would look at his Father and see that whatever it was it deeply troubled him.

Claire sat in the dining room eating some pasta slowly, savouring the taste as much as she could. As she apprehensively chewed she looked at the wall opposite her blankly.

The whole house was altogether silent, until the noise of a crash originating from the back of the house. Claire lurched up and backed away quickly, whilst Joe ran into through the dining room to the back door, his hand gun at the ready. Claire moved next to Fuller and Marie to ensure they didn't stray too far. Joe turned a corner and saw a body on the ground, and the back door had been smashed through. The body was writhing and almost screaming as if in pain, but in a flash it got to its feet and stared at Joe. Joe looked back at it, he recognised the man stood in front of him. He had on a blue open shirt with a white T-shirt underneath, blood stained the majority of it.

"David?" Claire's voice spoke out in fear from behind Joe, causing not only Joe to look at her but the infected corpse that was once known as David as well. David ran for Claire, and for Fuller and Marie who stood at either side of her. The second that Joe saw this his hand raised up and the gun along with it. As David got closer Joe's finger pressed on the trigger, and a nanosecond later a bullet launched from it, striking David in the head. His body spiralled with the built up momentum and he collapsed at Fuller's feet.

Fuller just stared at David's dead body and for the slightest second a twitch appeared at a corner of his mouth, a twitch that so very much wanted to become a smile.

_Six Months after the Cordyceps hit_

Joe and his family were all housed in a small one story apartment, only temporarily of course as the building was in such bad shape there was no hope of staying there for more than a few nights. Fuller and Marie were asleep together side by side in a twin bedroom. It was similar to their old room, except instead of having one half of the room be blue and one half be pink to resemble it being for a Brother and Sister it was all a pale green colour. Both beds had a similarly coloured duvet set and they also had a pattern of little race cars on them. They resembled characters from the film Cars 2 such as Lightening McQueen and Mater. Fuller, although he was admittedly behaving less like a child since the world turned upside down, actually loved the duvet as he enjoyed cars so very much. Of course that stemmed from his Father's chosen profession some years before.

Meanwhile Joe and Claire were sitting together in a small corner of the living room. The couch and other furniture items had been pushed against doors and windows to make it tougher for anyone, or anything, to break through. All light was also kept to a minimum, only a couple of candles lit up the corner of the room in which Joe and his wife resided. Claire rested in his arms and laid back against his chest. She could feel his heart beat; steady and strong. At any other time it could have been almost romantic, if they also had roses and a lovely meal to accompany it. Joe was just glad to be holding his wife and for a brief moment feel a sense of security. His eyes were closed as he absorbed the moment and relished in this temporary, and maybe even imaginative, feeling. Claire however, was staring blankly at the wall opposite her. Her eyes fixated upon the torn wallpaper and the fractured wood behind it, barely blinking and barely twitching or moving from that single spot ahead of her.

Going through her head was all sorts of horrible thoughts about what had happened and what could still happen. The moment with the men who tried to kill Joe and abuse Claire, and then do God knows what to their children afterwards was at the forefront of her mind. But a lot more had happened; David's infected body gunning for Fuller, several more infected trying to kill everyone in the family, seeing dead bodies littering the streets and pavements, abandoned cars with personal possessions and even remnants of a Child's presence just left to rust over for as long as they remain there, masses of people that still remained alive but had gone crazy and began doing unimaginable things. Her mind raced over all of these, and for every second she did this her heart filled of fear and dread more and more. She was scared for her well being and for the well being of her children.

"Joe, I'm afraid!" She said sternly but barely above the decibel level of a whisper

"Why? The house is secure and..." Joe made to comfort her but was forced to stop as she interrupted precipitously.

"No, I'm not afraid of that right now" She replied "I'm afraid of everything about this. Those things running around out there, the _normal_ people that still pose a threat and you can't tell me you haven't seen our son's reactions. He is beginning to not care about the violence any more Joe, and it scares the shit out of me"

"I know darling, but what can we do about it? I do my best to keep you alive and safe, and in this world that is the most important thing now" Joe retorted but did so lovingly to show his wife how much he cared. He rested his head on top of hers but then she moved away from him and turned around. For just a second she looked him in the eyes only to have move swiftly away so as to avert his gaze as she confessed how she felt.

"But what's the point? For what reason do we go on like this? What reason is there to carry on Joe?" She asked, the tone in her voice now resembled more accurately the intense fear she felt dwelling in her. At several points her words even broke before she could complete them, but Joe remained silent until she finished.

"What reason? We need to keep on living Claire, for each other and for those two beautiful children in the next room." Was all he could respond with

"That's exactly why I'm saying this Joe. I don't want my kids growing up in a world where they should expect such horrible things to happen at any time. They need to have hope for a good, happy life. For a better future. Where can they find hope in this hell hole?" She looked around her as she spoke the last few words, but she was clearly referencing more than their current accommodation.

"Well, what do you suggest I do huh? What exactly can I do to give this kind of _hope_? I know what, it's to keep moving on, keep living, so that one day things will return to normal" He began to get slightly irritated at what his Wife was saying, but more than anything he was shocked. And yet, despite that, he couldn't blame her. He understood why a person could lose hope nowadays, he just didn't expect it to be her.

"There's a difference between living and surviving Joe. But there is no point to surviving if we have to do so in such horrible circumstances. This is not the life I want for us. This is not the life we need. You need to stop thinking there is any hope that we can live a normal life again"

"Damn it Claire!" He yelled at her "Don't you see I'm just trying to give us a chance to make it?! We can make it through this, why can't you see that?" He was starting to get really cross, but part of him also felt fear as well as he pondered the possibility of Claire's statement being right.

Claire didn't utter another word to Joe now. Tears just streamed down her face and she looked at the infuriated expression of a man desperate to keep his family alive no matter the cost. She realised that Joe could not see it like she could, whilst Joe thought same but with switched roles.

The door a few feet away opened up and Fuller stepped through the archway to see his parents both with red faces and his Mother with tears falling from her chin. Joe looked to his left as Fuller stepped into the room and he quickly got up and pulled him into an embrace.

"What's going on?" He asked in a quiet, half asleep voice

"Nothing bud. Just Mommy and Daddy had a bit of a disagreement, but everything is okay now" He said to reassure his son.

Fuller made no visible reaction whatever which Joe discovered was because he had fallen asleep again in his arms. He considered himself temporarily lucky as it meant he had not been disturbed too much by what had happened just now between his father and mother. Joe gently lay back down and rested his son next to him as comfortably as he could. He held him in a soft hug, letting him sleep but it also let Joe be assured of his son's safety.

He looked up at Claire and asked with a quiet murmur "Will you just check on Marie? I don't want to wake him again" and then he looked down to his son.

"Sure" Claire said with a large exhale and stood up before walking through the archway that Fuller had came through.

_Several hours later_

Joe and Fuller both lay in the position they were in hours earlier, only now Joe was also asleep with his head against the wall. Until he heard a gun shot. Instantly both he and Fuller woke up alarmingly and Joe looked around, in a daze and confused at first. But then he realised the origin of the noise. It had been too loud to come from the outside and seeing as one of the other three people in the house was right next him, Joe realised where it had come from.

"Stay here!" he ordered his son and then rushed to the doorway only to find it was locked. He rattled the door handle impatiently, desperate to get in there. "Claire? Marie? Open the door please?!" His voice sounded through to the room beyond the door, only to receive no response. Upon realising the handle wouldn't budge he took a step back and braced himself for the next movement. A second later and he lashed out his leg to kick the door. The first proved unsuccessful, as did the second, third, fourth and fifth. Plenty of time had elapsed that anyone could have come to the door, or any number things could have happened. He now felt immensely terrified of what he might see on the other side of the door.

One more kick and the door crashed wide open with a loud bang, but not as loud as the next bang he heard. The gun shot resonated so close to him and in such a confined space that his hearing went slightly and a ringing began repeating itself in his ears. But he was too stunned with the scene that stood before him to even put his hands to his ears.

On one bed lay Marie's body, with the duvet tucked nice and snug around her. It would have looked so beautiful and peaceful if a large red aura hadn't filled every inch of the pillow underneath her head. A single hole sat on top of her forehead, but a whole pool of blood flowed out onto the bed sheet and floor underneath. On the opposite bed was Claire's body: slumped over the bed horizontally and on her back. The blood had gone from her to the direction of the wall nearby the door, she had been sitting up when she pulled the trigger of the gun that had been pressed against her temple, the very gun that should have been on Joe's person. He didn't think to search himself to check for it however, as he struggled with comprehending the sight in front of him. Several spray's of blood even struck Joe as he had entered the room, and now dozens of drops covered the left side of his face.

Joe stood there without taking any breath for what felt like a month by itself. He couldn't believe the scene in front of him. He slowly walked forward and tears began dripping one by one, but quickly picking up pace, as it hit him what his beloved had done.

A note rested on the edge of the unit behind Claire's body and after finally spotting it Joe knew what is was there for. So he moved inch by inch, being forced to pass the now lifeless body of the woman whom he once called his love and the pool of blood that now oozed freely from her. He couldn't divert his eyes away from her limp form as he passed her by, and it made the time drag out even more as he thought about what he was now doing. He finally dragged his eyes away and instead the found the note as he made to pick it up.

When he could finally read it these were the words he saw:

_I'm sorry my love, but I can not carry on like this._

_And I refuse to let our daughter go on this way either,_

_I would have done the same for our son too but_

_I know that if I had gotten too close to actually do it_

_you would have been able to stop me._

_If you were wise you would now do the same for him _

_and for you._

_Don't worry about Marie and I, we will be at peace now. _

_We no longer have to witness the atrocities and horrors_

_this world contains._

_We are free._

_Please Joe, do what must be done._

_I love you, and I hope to see you soon._

_Forever and always,_

_Your loving wife,_

_Claire_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N In this Chapter I chose not to make a skip to another point in time, I chose to remain exactly at the same point as the last Chapter. To me it feels like such an event as what happened needs some conclusive events, so those will occur in the next Chapter or so. I do not want to leave it one place too long, or else the story won't progress much, but I hope you readers don't mind me doing it for now. **

**Also, you may have noticed I changed the title to my story from "Fuller's Story" to "A Long Life to Live" as this felt to me like a better title for the story itself. Though the first title was also accurate it just didn't grab enough attention in my opinion, so hopefully you prefer the new title.**

**As always I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoy writing it. And if you wish to leave a review, whether to praise or critique, then feel free to do so.**

**Disclaimer - I do not own The Last of Us or any trademarks or properties as they belong to Naughty Dog, other than my OCs of course.**

**Chapter 3**

_Six Months after the Cordyceps hit_

Joe knelt in the small gap between the two beds, between two of his now deceased family members. His head was lowered to the ground and a group of tears fell to join the pool of blood which was now coagulating on the floor. It had been a considerable amount of time since he walked in on what his wife had done though he didn't know how long specifically, nor did he care.

The note she had written to him was clenched tightly in his hand as his arm rested upon one of the beds. Surprisingly, considering his position, none of the blood touched him but he was not focused on it regardless. His gaze just ended upon a single spot on the floor, he was oblivious to any noise around him, especially to that of Fuller screaming in the doorway as he finally saw what happened.

This was the first full bout of emotion he had shown since they left their home months before, and it was showing as he screamed so loudly and with such ferocity. But still, Joe didn't show any signs of noticing his own son in emotional torment. Fuller finally quietened down but he was still freaked out at the sight contained within the room, seeing his own father just staring absently right in the middle of it all just made it all worse.

Fuller took a step forward to enter the room but he was forced backwards as he jumped at a knock that came at the door. He quickly made his way backwards from the doorway to the bedroom and looked towards the front door as another knock emanated from that direction. Tears were sliding down his cheeks and he began to realise that the knock was sporadic, rash and had no pattern. Even if someone out there was in danger or frantically trying to save someone after they heard screams there would be some pattern or usual form to their knocking. But this time there was just a sporadic banging instead. That could mean only one thing: Infected!

They must have been attracted by the noise from the gunshots, or maybe Fuller's scream, or both. As Fuller watched the door, now rocking back and forth despite the barricade set up in front of it, and heard the banging getting louder he looked back to his father who was still in the exact position and still bore no sign of realising that infected were trying to enter the very building they were in.

Fuller's head twisted back and forth repeatedly between the door and his father and he new he would have to go into the room to get him but as he looked at the two other bodies in the room he became petrified and froze on the spot. He couldn't bear to think of the possibility of entering a room such as that, but he was only Seven years old after all. It'd be hard for anyone to cope with such a circumstance but as a child it would be even harder. Yet still, as the door suddenly began to shake so much that it actually opened up an inch, he made a decisive action and ran into the room and straight to his father, kneeling down to face him properly.

Despite his own son being right in front of his face Joe did not flinch or batter an eye lid. Fuller soon looked at his hand and saw the note, and even though he could not read the words at that angle he still made a guess as to what it was about.

He fought the urge to look at his mother just to the right of him because he was too scared of the image in such close proximity. Without physically looking he could still picture her however, his sister too. Both their bodies lying limp in that place, never to move by themselves ever again. His mother and sister were gone from this world, and that thought scared him. Especially as all he had now was his father, who sat there looking into the space of nothingness and failing to recognise anything going on around him.

Meanwhile, the banging still raged on outside of the room and he knew he would have to hurry and do something to snap him out of it.

"Dad?" he asked, placing his hand on his father's shoulder gently "Daddy? Come on Dad, there's something at the front door. It's getting in." Fuller left the air silent for a moment waiting for a response but none came to him. He placed his other hand on the opposite shoulder and tried once more but he still got no response.

The banging became more and more intense and it sounded like the door would soon be open enough to let the infected in. This pushed Fuller to be more rough in shocking his father out of this state he was in.

He grasped his shoulders firmly and shook him from side to side as hard as he could shouting "Dad, come on. Something is trying to get in and we need to get out of here, now come on. Please?"

Nothing.

"Dad, please? I'm scared!" Fuller pleaded with sobs as he lifted his hands off his father's shoulders and dropped them by his side. His head lulled towards the ground as well and his tears joined his father's own.

Finally Joe looked up slowly, but not at his son. Instead his eyes brushed past Fuller to the doorway, which is where he all of a sudden aimed for after having gotten up with amazing speed and exited the room. He bypassed his own son as if he wasn't even there and turned left after leaving the room before he positioned himself to face the front door, now partially open. Multiple arms were pushing through the gap between the door and the door frame and Joe looked upon them with the same absent look he had since he set himself between the two beds.

His eyes tracked over the room until they landed on his large back pack, so he walked over to it and pulled out two large objects: the two Sabres he pulled off one of the men that attacked him and Claire a couple months earlier. He recognised them as Chinese Dao Sabres, something he only knew due to his interest in multiple types of weaponry. It was always a hobby of his, but he never took to collecting any so he had never seen some in real life until that encounter. Since then he had been training with them, he wasn't exactly a fantastic fighter with them but he certainly knew how to wield them to a certain level of effectiveness and he only got better.

He strolled back to the spot he was in moments ago, facing the door, and put a sabre into each hand and tightened his grip as strong as possible. The curved blade pointed towards the ground just in front of him and the white hilts only just visible through his grip. He looked up from the sabres to the door just as it burst open, the barricade giving way like it could put up just as much resistance as a piece of paper. Four runners all crashed through with great magnitude. Two of them were burly men, who had obviously done the majority of the work in opening the door to the apartment. All four of them released a putrid smell into the apartment due from all the dirt, blood and other gory substances since whenever they first turned. The smell hit Joe's nose and although his brain was telling him it was extremely unpleasant he gave no visible reaction whatsoever. The only light in the room was the moonlight coming through the now open doorway and the infected appeared to Joe as silhouettes.

The infected glared at Joe and he stared back with the same absence as he had this whole time, until his face creased up with fiery anger. They began to twitch wildly and the made to charge at him, causing him to raise his weapons ready for a confrontation.

Moments before they reached him he spat four words through his teeth

"Come on, you fuckers."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoy writing it. And if you wish to leave a review, whether to praise or critique, then feel free to do so.**

**Disclaimer - I do not own The Last of Us or any trademarks or properties as they belong to Naughty Dog, other than my OCs of course**.

**Chapter Four**

_Six months after the Cordyceps hit_

Fuller knelt in the same room as the corpses that belonged to two of the only people in his life he ever loved and the smell hit his nose with such intensity his head swirled around and ended in a leaning back position. The smell that hit him however did not come from either of the two bodies next to him, they were still too fresh for that, but rather it came from outside the room.

He could also hear the noise of grunts and growls coming from the living room area as well as the swish of blades swinging through the air. But one noise stood out in particular: The two sabres hacking away at flesh and swiping and cutting limbs.

What he heard was Joseph using the sabres to such effectiveness that the infected were defeated with ease. Blood sprayed at the walls as they cut the skin and the veins underneath. A couple arms and a leg flew through the air as they cut through the bone in quick, fluid swoops.

The expression on Joe's face was of pure hatred and it only fuelled his movements in this confrontation, making the impact of his strikes much more brash and wild but at the same time so much more powerful.

He swung the sabre one last time and it took down the final infected that decided to enter the apartment. Only four initially appeared but more soon joined, so now multiple bodies littered most areas of the otherwise barren living room floor. Joe stood there with the same hateful expression upon his face and blood soaking his clothes, none of it his own. He was so angry he didn't even realise how miraculous it was he had survived such an encounter as that, instead he just looked out at the bodies on the ground and his lips curled into a vicious smirk.

"It's all your fault, you fuckers. It's all your fault."

_Twelve hours later_

Fuller stood on the edge of a small field watching his father dig ferociously at the ground. Joe had sweat dripping from the fresh new clothes he had put on after his battle. The blood soaked clothes had been left behind at the apartment which he set ablaze in a fit of rage before their departure. Fuller could see the fire in the rear view mirror the whole time on their way to the field. The sight of which stuck in his brain as did the smell of the burning infected corpses when they were still fairly close to the building. Beside the holes in the ground that were currently being dug lay two rolled up duvet covers, each containing a single body with one longer than the other.

Joe had ordered Fuller to remain where he was before he walked off with the shovel in hand and the two bodies being towed behind him. He was angry at his wife for doing what she did, but he would still show her enough respect to bury her rather than leave her to burn in the apartment, and he wanted to say his goodbyes to his daughter.

Relentlessly he attacked the ground as the mental image of their bodies lying in those pools of blood remained in his head, alongside the memory of slicing up the infected. The events were on constant playback and each time the memory of the battle came up an evil smile crept onto is face, as if he was glad to have done it.

As soon as he was done digging he threw the shovel into the air and it landed on the ground a couple feet away from the holes with a clang. He pulled himself up from the holes, picked up the body of his daughter and gently placed her down into the hole on the left. He was so careful with her it was almost as if she were still alive and he was simply placing her into bed after falling asleep on his lap in their old living room at home, albeit for the last ever time. The mental image of doing this brought back memories of before the Cordyceps. It had only been Six months but it already felt longer. Each day felt like a week all by itself now as each day meant a fight for survival, and not just against the infected. He remembered setting Marie and Fuller to bed together at night and he would read a story of their choice, but it always took half an hour for them to choose. Marie always wanted stories like Sleeping Beauty or princesses but Fuller often wanted stories involving slaying dangerous beasts. Very stereotypical for children their age, so he often brought it to middle ground and read stories involving princesses that needed saving from creatures like dragons or evil sorcerers. But he remembered that not long after he begun reading to them they were always so worn out that they fell asleep within a few minutes, meaning they never got to finish a full story all that often. But nonetheless, he was fond of such memories.

"I love you baby!" he whispered to himself as he set her down and took a few moments to wallow in sadness at the fact he was burying his daughter. He slowly got out of the hole and passed a final glance to where his daughter's body lay before picking up his wife's and throwing her into her hole. He was giving her respect by burying her but it didn't mean he wasn't mad at her either. "You bitch, why couldn't you just hold on?! I was gonna make sure we stayed alive, why couldn't you see that?" He spat angrily whilst looking about, not wanting to look at her corpse wrapped up in the duvet.

After a few more moments he walked over to the shovel and began shovelling the dirt back into the holes. He was getting so tired that it took him nearly an hour to just get the dirt back in place, let alone say his actual goodbyes.

Once done he stuck the shovel into the ground nearby and just stood there at the foot of the gap between the two new graves. He had placed small pieces of wood standing upright as markers because he knew that the ground would return to it's original state and so without markers the graves could never be identified. Not the could think of a reason why they would need identifying any more.

Fuller slowly walked up to his side and gently took hold of his hand.

"Say your goodbyes son, for we will never be able to return to here ever again" He claimed aggressively.

Fuller looked from one grave to another and back again, tears gently rolling down his cheeks. "Bye Mommy, bye Marie. I'll always love you" He said quietly under his breath, almost inaudible to Joe. Almost. He wanted to say he shouldn't be sad for his mother, but he still had enough decency within him at the moment to leave it be.

For half an hour longer they remained there just staring at the graves in silence until Joe turned around and said "Come on now Son, it's time we left!" and he walked off towards a pick-up truck parked at the edge of a dirt road just leading off the small field. Fuller started to walk too, but quickly realised he had something important to do.

"Just a moment Dad, there's something I gotta do" He shouted to his father who didn't stop walking to the truck. He only stopped when he reached it, but even then he put the items like the shovel into the truck and opened the driver's door ready to go. He turned his head and watched as Fuller approached Marie's grave.

Fuller walked to the side of Marie's grave and knelt down next to it. In his hands was the doll she received on her birthday, or rather on their birthday.

"I wanted you to have this back. I noticed you had it in your arms everyday since we left home, and I wanted to make sure you could keep it by you forever" he said gently as if she would be listening. At least, he hoped she was. He took a small stake from his pocket, tied the doll to it and planted it by the head of the grave, just in front of the marker. The doll's red hair waved with the wind and the blue and red striped dress fluttered as well. He looked at the doll and saw it as the best visual representation of his deceased sister, although it looked nothing like her.

"Goodbye, I love you!" he whispered and stood up slowly before turning to go towards the truck.

Joe had a single tear drop from his eyelash as he saw what his son did, actually thankful that he was showing some emotion here but saddened by why it was happening now.

He began to think about Fuller before his seventh birthday, about how they used to go to the park together every week and how they would always play Frisbee. Never once could Fuller catch it properly, he was too short at the time to catch a good throw. So Joe always skimmed it lower, to give him a better chance so he could feel good and have more fun. He always loved the smile that came on his face when he finally caught it in his hand. How he missed those days.

Joe was so deep in thought that the gun shot didn't register at first. He only realised someone had fired a gun when he saw where the bullet had gone. He could only tell because the first thing his eyes saw to confirm the gun shot had indeed happened was Fuller as his body collapsed to the ground and skidded forward slightly with the momentum.

Joe pushed himself off from the door and ran as fast he could to his son, shouting his name the whole time. He was hoping and praying that today wouldn't mean he lost another family member, or else he knew he really would have no reason to live. He ran and ran and ran as fast as possible but time just seemed to slow down. Fear had filled his heart and gripped it so tightly that every second dragged on forever and every inch Joe covered felt like a mile.

Finally he began to get close and he almost reached his son, now lying on the ground with dirt kicked up around him and blood spilling out of the back of his shirt, when another gun shot rang out. Yet again it didn't register. Until a sharp pain struck in his abdomen. He stopped in his tracks and looked down to see blood pouring out of a bullet hole in his lower torso. He was shocked to see blood like this again so soon, but then he looked to his son just a few feet away and he started to walk towards him. Another shot rang out and another bullet hit him, this time in the chest. He placed a hand over each wound but continued moving forward, striving to get to his son.

One more shot burst from the gun which, judging by the sound, was now getting closer and closer. The bullet hit his abdomen as well and this time he couldn't help but collapse to the ground. He looked to his left as his head lulled into a position which he had no energy to move it from and he saw a group of tall men approaching. They slowly turned to a blur and he couldn't make out any defining features about them, but they reminded him easily of the men they encountered just a couple months earlier. As they neared he strained himself to say

"Please, don't hurt my son" and that was when his eyelids closed in on each other, enclosing him in darkness as he fell deeply into unconsciousness.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N I have to admit, up until this point there were some parts of this story which I had no idea what I wanted to do with. I knew where I wanted Joe's and Fuller's story to begin, as well as where I want it to end, but I lacked some ideas for some milestones along the way. However, I do now have some ideas starting to form that I believe will prove interesting to tell a good story. **

**With this in mind however, I do want to initiate an idea involving readers. If any of you ever get any ideas, no matter how small, that you would like to see in this story then feel free to suggest them to me (preferably via a PM so other readers do not see and then can enjoy the idea without having it spoiled for them). If you have an idea I like and one I decide to use I will credit you in the author's note. As much as this is my story, I like the concept of creating some audience participation, so if any of you are up for it then feel free to do so.**

**I would also like to say a thank you to those of you who do read this and are enjoying it, as well as to anyone who follows/favourites or reviews it. **

**I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoy writing it. And if you wish to leave a review, whether to praise or critique, then feel free to do so.**

**Disclaimer - I do not own The Last of Us or any trademarks or properties as they belong to Naughty Dog, other than my OCs of course**.

**Chapter Five**

_Six Months after the Cordyceps hit_

"So, what are we going to do with them?"

"Simple. Use them as leverage!"

"How?"

"What, are you a moron? Come on fool you know how this works. We send a message, saying we have some of theirs and they make a deal to come get them."

"I know how it goes. What I mean is, well, they just don't look like they're from the same group that we have been having trouble with for so long."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, all their gear was packed tightly into many bags and shoved into a small pick-up truck. Why do that if they have many resources back at a small community of people?"

"You know, for a dimwit such as yourself Parson, that is quite smart. But if that is what you truly think then you gotta tell the boss, but I'm telling you he ain't gonna like it"

Joe sat there tied to a chair with his arms behind his back and in a dank, dark corner of some small room. His eyes remained sealed as he listened to the words of his captors. But he so badly wanted, badly needed, to open his eyes. Firstly he needed to see if his Son was okay. He could feel that he was somewhere close by. But he could not sense if he was okay. With his eyes closed he couldn't see him to check on him and as much as he strained his hearing he couldn't tell if he was even breathing.

The other reason: he was trying to stop the urge from falling back into unconsciousness. It washed over him like tidal waves repeatedly. It would be really easy for him to just let go, but he knew he couldn't allow himself if he hoped to rescue his son. One thing that helped make it somewhat easier was how he terrible stench of the room kept striking his nostrils with grave force, keeping him much more alert. As much as he hated the smell itself he was also thankful for it's ability to shock him awake each time he felt close to falling unconscious again.

For the next few hours he listened out for his captors' voices and mostly he heard nothing. Until around four hours later, when he heard foot steps approaching loudly, he guessed about three people. He could hear two of them talking, the same voices from before which meant one of them was this "Parson", but the third one remained mysterious. Until Joe suddenly felt a vice grip at the hair on the back of his head which pulled his head up straight.

That was when he heard the voice of the third man "You can stop pretending mister, I know you're awake. And I know that you have been for the past few hours."

Joe finally opened his eyes and the sudden intake of light almost felt like it blinded him. A minute or so passed until it he had somewhat acclimated and it became more bearable, he could see the vague forms of the three people who bore their eyes onto him. He looked towards the man who was holding his head tightly and despite his slightly blurry vision he could make out the rather regular looking man. Through the blurry cloak which halted his vision he could see the man who, out of all the types of men in existence, could be described as a "Scrawny geek" and for such a classification he had a surprisingly strong grip. Joe could make out his thin jet black hair as well as the shape of a goatee and glasses resting atop the bridge of his nose.

"Wha... What do you want?" Joe asked in a raspy, dehydrated voice

"Altogether? Oh I don't know" He looked up and away from Joe's face temporarily, as if in contemplation but then looked back to Joe. "Money, nice cars, women! But those things don't count any more do they? Well, money and nice cars don't any more at least. No. But as for now, well I want security. Sure there are other things too, but they can come in it's own time. So for now I want security, and a big part of that is getting the upper hand in any possible hostile situations."

"Why are you telling me this?" Joe asked, his voice feeling like it would go at any moment.

"Because you are going to help me. You will be my upper hand" the man replied

"How so, Zach?" Parsons asked

"DO NOT QUESTION ME!" The man, obviously Zach, yelled at him temporarily diverting his attention from Joe. An evil stare held its place upon his face as he looked at Parsons, who now backed away a couple steps. He turned back to Joe and his complexion automatically reverted to the same calm form it held mere moments before. "I bet you're wondering the exact same thing. The answer is: I don't know. Not yet at least, but I'm sure I'll have something soon enough."

"Why would I help you?" Joe inquired

"Now that is a good question!" Zach hollered and he bounced up from his stance, he even leapt about the room a bit as if there were great joy to be found with the question that was posed. He moved over to something covered in a blanket and finally stopped moving about so erratically. "Here's why" he declared and he grasped the blanket so he could pull it off. As he lifted it away he revealed that what was underneath was actually a who, not a what. It was Joe's son. He sat there hunched over, still unconscious. Blood soaked his shirt from the bullet wounds still, no indication of whether they had killed him or not.

Joe had not even realised he had been moved from his side at all. All this time his cognitive skills had obviously been significantly impaired, which must have been why he couldn't even hear his son in the first place. Or had he been wrong all along? Was Fuller never there by his side? Was the only reason he couldn't hear him because he was never there, until now? If so then why could he still not hear him?

These questions all raced through Joe's mind but to no avail could he find an answer before Zach carried on with his speech.

"This is why! He is your incentive. Based on what I was told on what happened when you were shot and brought here, you had major concern for his safety. Now seeing as you look a little old to be his brother, I'm going to go with he is your son" He paused and looked straight at Joe's face. No obvious response was made but Zach could still read the truth "He is! Okay, now I know for sure I also know I have the upper hand over you. So, here is my proposal. Whenever I require your assistance you will give it. For the rest of your existence you can live as you please and do what you like, within reason of course, until the moment I tell you to do something. And when I give you an order you'd be wise to follow it."

"And if not?"

"Simple!" He extended his arms as a gesture to claim his answer was obvious "I hurt your son, badly." He stated coldly and without hesitation.

"You son of a bitch, if you lay a hand on him I'll..."

"You'll what? Forgive me but I am the one with the muscle standing behind me and the evident power in this situation. How about I give you an example to help you think?! Parson, get to it!"

Parson moved over slowly to Fuller's limp body and lifted his head up

"DON'T you fucking touch him" Joe shouted angrily

"Hey" Zach responded with a sarcastic slap "You have no right to give orders here, that's my job" he said with an even more sarcastic grin.

Zach glared with an expression that almost represented glee, whilst Parson picked up the Chinese Dao Sabre and raised to Fuller's head. Joe wrestled with the bonds around his wrists in an effort to get loose to save his son.

"Hold it?" Zach ordered and the whole room, even Joe, paused exactly as it was. Joe wondered why this man had given to order to halt at all, and he began to fear what was to come next.

Zach knelt down and pushed his own face closely to Joe's, staring into his eyes. Joe was immediately put into a sense of unease, as if he wasn't in one already.

"Marie and Claire? Who were they?" Zach asked in a whisper that no one but Joe could hear.

"What?" Joe was too stunned to push out more than one word, and even then his voice cracked at the mention of his wife's and daughter's names.

Zach looked into his eyes and saw the truth right away

"Lover? Wife, given the ring on your finger. Which one was that? Marie?" he watched for a reaction and saw none "Claire it is then. Which mean Marie was what? Your sister?" Again he watched and saw no reaction. "No. She was the boy's sister wasn't she!? Your daughter! They were your Wife and your Daughter, how did they die?" Joe gave no response as his eyes dropped to the ground and soon his head followed, which was followed closely by tears. He gasped for breath in between hurtful sobs as he cried relentlessly.

"I'm sorry for your loss" Zach said almost compassionately before he stood up. "Parson, put the blade down and leave now. Same goes for you" he ordered his men in the room. He followed them to an archway and his hand landed on the door knob. His head turned back so he could see Joe in the corner of his vision "Keep my offer in mind. Your son has come to no harm today because of your loss, but that will not protect him forever. That is your job, so make sure you do it for his sake."

Joe continued crying, his eye lids clenched tightly but tears still managed to fall from his face. Zach looked for a second more until he slammed the door shut. The sound reverberated around the near empty room and it startled Joe as he reminisced about the sound of the gun shots which had brought about the end to his Wife and Daughter's lives.

He thought of the situation he and Fuller were now in as well and he realised what was wrong. "I'm sorry" he whispered to his unconscious son "It's my fault. I failed to save your Mother, I failed to save your Sister and now I can't save you."

He finally lifted his head and instead of seeing the same thing as when he last looked at Fuller, he saw him awake and staring back at him.

"_Had he been awake the whole time?"_ Joe thought to himself but then he just looked at the unwavering expression on his face and simply repeated

"I'm sorry"


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer - I do not own The Last of Us or any trademarks or properties as they belong to Naughty Dog, other than my OCs of course.**

**Chapter Six**

_Seven months after the Cordyceps hit_

Joe's mind raced over the thought of his son having remained flawlessly okay at what had been said during and shortly after Zach's presence in the room. He had spent hours and hours mulling over how in just a few short months he could only barely recognise his own child. These thoughts terrified him so much that when they gave way to the feeling of starvation and dehydration he almost felt relieved to have something else to be worried about. However, this _relief_ soon went away as the after effects of being left for multilple days without any food to eat or water to drink began to take hold. He could feel his stomach getting tighter as he hungered for some food and it only worsened as images of Steak, chips, pasta and so many more edible foods he enjoyed so much cropped into his head.

On his third day without food or water he was surely close to passing out, after which he wasn't entirely sure if he could wake up again. What scared him more was that his Son had already undergone such a process, due to having less body weight on him and therefore less nutrients retained by his body. Fuller's body lay limp in the chair he was tied to and every time Joe spared a second to look at him what little hope of surviving and getting out of here remained dwindled slowly. He was close to having none left.

Joe's head started to lull downwards as he finally went to pass out, but a loud clang startled him and the sight of Zach barging through the door brought with it a metaphorical barrel full of fear. Zach first moved to Fuller and he pulled out a knife, to Joe it looked all too sinister but in the cirumstances they had come to such an assumption wasn't exactly far fetched. Instead, Zach cut the ropes that kept Fuller's hands at the back of the chair as well as the ones holding his feet together. He lifted Fuller up and passed him to a tall, brute of a man that stood close by who removed Fuller's unconscious body, and as far as Joe knew: dead body, from the room. Zach then rotated to face Joe, whose eyes were bloodshot from trying so hard to stay awake for so long. The after effects of sleep deprivation and hunger were all too evident upon his face. Deep, dark bags rested under his eye lids and the red was entirely visible on his eye balls. His eyes lifted slowly up to Zach and right there and then Joe resigned to his fate. He was so sure Zach was about to kill him too that he was frankly surprised when Zach cut his ropes and helped him to his feet.

Joe stood there for a minute or too just resting on Zach's shoulder, trying to get some strength to move. When he finally amassed enough he decided to use it to throw a punch at Zach instead, but it wasn't enough and he failed. The swerve of his body from such an action caused him to crash to the floor and an exasperated look crept onto Zach's face followed along with a roll of the eyes. He waved his hand for two of his men to lift Joe up and so they dragged him out of the room, his feet scraping along the ground as the fall had been what finally sent him spiralling into unconsciusness. Zach followed right away and closed the door behind him with a sudden clang.

_Two days later_

Joe shot up from the medical bed upon which he rested. He was in fresh clothes, a clean short sleeved T-shirt and a pair of denim jeans which he did not particularly recognise or remember having put on. It wasn't hard to deduce that it had happened while he was unconscious, but he struggled to realise how, or why, he was still alive. As his eyes opened the intake of light was too much, like it had been when he first woke up tied to the chair. When he could finally see he tried to take in his surroundings. He was in a long grey coloured room, which he would have mistook for a short corridor if it hadn't been for the office cupboards put up all around and the various furniture items such as stools and a couple hospital beds. It was obviously fitted to act as a sort of makeshift infirmary, but he guessed it wasn't originally designed this way. He moved to his side and as he looked to his right he saw Fuller lying down with an IV line attached to his left arm. Beyond the bed which his son lay on he noticed a man in a white lab coat, with dirt marks that were visible even from where Joe sat. He slowly crept off the bed and checked his son by placing his fingers to his neck: Fuller's pulse was low but it was there. Joe was no Doctor but he decided his heart could rest a little easier knowing his son might very well be okay for now.

Joe looked up to the man in the white coat and a look of angry determination set firmly upon his face, he was going to fight to get his son out of this place and out of Zach's reach. He tiptoed away from the bed and on his way he noticed a scalpel amongst other medical instruments on top of a silver tray. He quietly picked up the scalpel and inched closer to the man who was currently writing something down at a dark brown desk. The paint of the desk was beginning to peel off as if it had undergone years of torture but at least it served it's standard purpose. Joe got to within a few feet and launched out his arm, grabbing the man in the lab coat and wrapping his arm around his throat so he was held firmly within Joe's grip. He placed the scalpel to his cheek

"I need a way out of here for me and my son" Joe stated clenching the man tightly

"I...I can not do that" the man said with a jittery tone "Listen, just put the scalpel down okay, and we can talk"

"I'd listen to him Joe" the voice came from behind Joe, causing him to turn on the spot whilst still holding onto the man "I'd really like you to take the scalpel away from Dr Lester"

"I take it Dr Lester means a whole lot to you then"

"No not really, but he is this town's only Doctor. Not to mention he is the person who saved your life as well as your son's, you were both quite malnourished." Zach retorted

"It's only because of you that he needed to help us at all, and something tells me he was only following your orders so it's hardly a show of good faith on his part considering the type of person you are" Joe replied hastily

"The type of person I am?!" Zach parroted, temporarily ignoring the comment directly about Dr Lester. "Listen, you may not like me but I am the one in control here. Even if you slice his throat I have people outside with guns ready to pop a few into your son's skull. Are you really going to kill Lester in an attempt to save your son only to end up condemning him to death anyway? I'm guessing no, so put it down."

Joe stood physically unphased, internally he knew Zach was right but he couldn't bring himself to lower the scalpel. Zach let out a sigh and pulled out a small Jericho hand gun and aimed it ar Fuller "Put the scalpel down now or I put a bullet in your son" he waited for a second and when Joe did nothing he pulled the chamber back "PUT IT DOWN NOW OR I WILL SHOOT HIM" he aggressively ordered.

Joe truly began to believe him now and so pulled the scalpel away from Dr Lester's face before he removed his arm from his throat. Once they were a small distance apart he dropped the scalpel and looked between Dr Lester and Zach.

"Now, follow the Doc's orders and everything will be fine. If you don't, my men will come in here and you won't like what happens next." He threatened before exiting the room. Two shadows moved in front of the only doors to the infirmary, guards placed there by Zach now that Joe was awake.

Dr Lester moved past Joe and pointed to the bed "lie down", he followed the order as he was told to do so he didn't have to face the consequences.

"I'm sorry about that, I didn't want to hurt you I was just scared for my son. I'm Joseph" he extended his hand towards the Doctor to greet him properly. Dr Lester looked at his hand but did not move his own other than to tidy up some items on the unit nearby "Richard, and I understand"

Joe kept his hand out but eventually he brought it back close to himself "Thank you, for saving me and my son" he looked down into his lap as he sat on the bed. After a few seconds he lay back and looked over to his son, he received no response from Richard but at the moment he wasn't particularly focused on that.

Some time passed and Richard Lester had moved to various spots in the room as he carried out multiple tasks at once, including organising a massive load of medecines. Joe had spent the whole time just looking at Fuller but finally he diverted his eye line over to the Doc himself. He noticed for the first time that Richard Lester had light brown hair that was frizzy, the likes of which had resulted in him ruffling it a lot but never setting it straight. He could also see some light bags under his eyes and a pointed chin covered in a stubble of facial hair. All in all Dr Lester looked quite rugged and tired. Joe decided it was time to break the properly.

"How long you been studying medicine?" He asked politely

For several seconds no response came and when Joe thought he wouldn't get one Richard spoke up "Technically I didn't "study". I'm not a Doctor of medicine, I trained for years to become a Physicist.

"Then how did you end up becoming Dr fix me up for Captain Crazy?" He asked this time not so politely

"I was trained in some basic ways to help people's physical afflictions and when Zach caught wind of this he put me to use right away. And, I wouldn't call him crazy by the way. Technically he is perfectly sane, perhaps he can be deemed a sociopath but not a psychopath. Though I wouldn't say that either, not to his face at least"

"So you're on his side now?" He questioned

"Forcibly so yes, but not willingly. The hold that Zach has over these people is amazingly firm and it only grows stronger ever day. He has a hold over me but not because I want to follow him" Richard answered

"What hold is that then?"

Richard just looked away from Joe, not wanting to answer.

Joe could sense that he did not want to answer this so he came up with another question "So, how exactly did you get here then? You know, become a part of Zach's "community" I mean?"

Richard stared off into the air before him, not answering Joe properly, as he began to remember his own story.

**A/N I would like to thank a fellow writer who I met through this website, CAS2109 (feel free to check his profile out), for allowing me use of the character I introduce in this chapter: Dr Richard Lester. I was searching for a character I wanted to use in the role I have planned for Dr Lester and I created a couple characters but I remembered CAS' character that he created and I knew it was this character I wanted. So all props for his creation go to him not me, though with CAS' permission I have taken a few liberties I am trying by absolute best to stay true to how he was created. Thank you CAS.**

**I also wish to thank all readers for sticking with me so far, I feel like I am nowhere near as good as a lot of writers on this site (especially hammerofthor, whose TLoU fanfic "Aftermath" series is truly amazing and is a perfect story for the world of TLoU in my opinion) but I hope my story proves entertaining enough for you.**

**As always I hope you enjoy reading this story.**

**Until next time, where there is a little something different planned compared to what I have been doing so far. I look forward to it that's for sure.**


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